Tired of chasing or the shadow, even, of the feeling, I am
making my own list. There were thoughts I had today that strained too hard to
please but I shook my head and broke the breaths in half and half again then
multiplied by self undivided against what isn’t and this is where we are as the
clock goes by and the bluebirds kiss the rainbirds in what others look for sun
and the darkness turned a corner as my words slid on without their pockets full of sense – who to be the
wiser as the pages turn so slow? Quiet as the light goes out in separate
scenes, apart and farther
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